


By Chance

by storm_dog_pirate



Category: Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Modern Era, and Nikolai happens to be on duty to rescue her, cheesy af idk, elevator malfunctioning on Zoya, or basically the three times Nik rescued her as mentioned in my fic Falling In, or that firefighter!Nik because i'm trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:13:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25571143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storm_dog_pirate/pseuds/storm_dog_pirate
Summary: Three times Zoya gets stuck in an elevator, and a certain firefighter always rescues her. Fic set a short time before Falling In.
Relationships: Nikolai Lantsov/Zoya Nazyalensky
Comments: 10
Kudos: 42





	By Chance

Their first encounter was a bit awkward for her.

Zoya was running late, but somehow, her apartment complex’s elevator chose the perfect time to malfunction. The lights dimmed almost immediately, and she let out a loud curse. In the five years she had lived here, this hadn’t happened to her before. 

“Why choose now out of all times?” Zoya growled as she hit the emergency button. The time on her watch showed 9:05, and she had to get to their office at 9:45. Otherwise, her boss was going to gut her. She pushed the call button with a fist. “Hello?” Several seconds passed, but there was no answer. She tried again, _"Hello?”_

When there still was none, she fished for her phone in her bag to call the front desk of the complex, or her co-worker Genya and tell her the Zoya would most probably be late. But she didn’t have any signal inside the elevator. How convenient. Her mood soured even more.

Their law firm had just landed on a big case and today was the briefing for it. But, of course, luck wasn’t on her side like always. And there was still no answer from the front desk. Zoya fought the urge to curse aloud again. 

“Hello?” A distorted voice came from the speaker on the side panel. Yuri from the front desk. “Is anyone stuck inside?”

 _Finally._ Zoya took a deep breath to calm herself. “Yes, there is someone in here,” she said, biting her tongue to prevent herself from saying something out of hand. Her frustration was overwhelming her. "This is Zoya Nazyalensky from the twelfth floor. I think I'm somewhere between the sixth and seventh?" 

"Oh, Atty. Nazyalensky! I'm so sorry for the inconvenience," Yuri was saying, and Zoya could practically see the young man fidgeting in his seat. "There's been a power shortage within the complex. I don't know when it would be back." 

_Saints._ Zoya put a hand to her forehead. _Deep breaths, Nazyalensky._ "Have you called the fire department?"

A beat. "Not yet."

"Call them now."

"Y-yes, of course!" 

The call ended, and Zoya slowly backed from the panel and went to the corner. The dim emergency light made the small space a bit bearable but it didn't erase the fact that she was cramped in here. There was a part of her that regretted not taking the stairs instead. 

She breathed in deeply, counting to three before breathing out with her mouth. Her heart continued to race, and she focused on the ceiling above her as she continued to even out her breaths. Such a good way to start her day with a panic attack. The fates must like her. 

At last, after what it felt like eternity, Yuri's voice came to the speakers again. "They're on their way, Atty. Nazyalensky. About ten minutes."

Zoya winced at that. _That seems forever._ She shook the thought away as she went to the button. "Yeah, okay. Thank you."

She went back to her place by the corner, but not choosing to sit down because of possible wrinkling her suit. She'd rather be late but still presentable. 

The minutes ticked by and Zoya continued to breathe evenly. She thought of her dog Sturmhond, how the dog would greet her every time she got back from the office, how it would always nuzzle on her lap while she was watching a movie. 

A smile appeared on her lips. Definitely one of her best decisions was to adopt the dog. 

Though it still irked Zoya who named him literally _"storm dog"_.

"Greetings," a rather cheerful voice erupted from the speakers, effectively snapping her out from her thoughts. She frowned over the panel. "This is Nikolai Lantsov from the fire department. How are you doing?"

Zoya exhaled roughly as she went to the panel again. "Just get me out of here," she said a bit sharply, and she immediately felt bad, holding her other hand to keep it from trembling. She wanted to be out of this space already. "I'm sorry, it just feels too….stuffy in here."

"Don't worry, we'll get to you as soon as possible," the voice said. "Sixth and seventh floor, if I may confirm?" 

"Yes."

"Copy that."

Zoya frowned at the panel. Why did it sound like someone doing a prank call? She shook her head. Now wasn't the time to doubt. 

Several minutes later, she could hear a muffled groan of the metal doors being opened somewhere above her. Then it was followed by, "Miss Nazyalensky?" 

"Yes, I'm here!"

A short silence. "The elevator is wedged right in between the two floors. I'm going to have to get you from above, alright?"

That also didn't sound good. Zoya fought a wince even though they couldn't see her. "Okay." Her voice was a bit unsure, but she hoped they heard it. 

A muffled thud from the ceiling came after a moment, and then the small hatch from the ceiling was slowly pulled off. 

A man's face appeared by the opening, and he lifted his visor. 

His eyes were a brilliant shade of hazel. 

He gave her a grin. "Fret not, Miss Nazyalensky, the firefighter in shining uniform is here," he said. He must be the one from the intercom earlier. Zoya had to roll her eyes on his statement. This earned a chuckle from the firefighter as he lowered his head to peek to the rest of the small space. "The ceiling is a bit low, so I can reach out to you. Do you mind handing your purse first so it wouldn't be much of a hindrance for you?" 

Zoya did as Lantsov said and handed him her purse. He put it somewhere beside him, and then he reached an arm down the opening. She took a deep breath before she held onto his arm with both hands. 

"Alright on three," he said, his hand closing around one of her wrists. "One. Two—" 

Then he pulled her up. 

Zoya made a sound of protest as she was lifted from her feet. Whatever snarky comment she was about to say died on her lips as the rush of air met her outside the elevator. A moment later, she was standing beside Lantsov, a relieved breath coming out from her lips as she became free of the cramped space. 

Her legs buckled and she almost fell, had the firefighter not kept a firm hand on her forearm. 

"Miss Nazyalensky, are you alright?" he asked, concern obvious in his tone.

Zoya raised up her hand. "Yeah, let me breathe for a moment." She made a mistake of turning away because the sight was the plunging darkness from below. Her eyes widened as she reared back. " _Holy fuck—_ " 

"Alright, easy. It indeed is a bit of a drop," Lantsov said, gently pulling her away from the edge. "It's a faster way down than the elevator, but definitely not recommended."

"What?" 

"I'm just kidding. You look like you need a bit of distraction." He smiled softly, his face offering a calming expression. "Deep breaths, okay? You're fine. You did good."

Zoya nodded, doing what he said. She clutched at his arm that supported her. "Heights are also not my thing."

Understanding flashed on his face, and Lantsov nodded. "Alright, let's get you out here right away."

Then a voice came somewhere above them. "Hey, Nikolai. All good?"

He gave a thumbs-up. "Yeah." Then he turned to her. "Can you stand?"

"I think so." Zoya wasn't sure at least, the fear still gripping on her like ice. Her legs felt weak. Her whole body felt weak. It was definitely not her day.

"It's a few meters up by the ladder at the side. Is it okay if you use my back?"

She huffed a laugh, half-annoyed and half-embarrassed with the turn of events. With a sigh, Zoya nodded. 

Lantsov guided them to the side, and then he crouched to let Zoya hold on to him, her arms around his neck. "Hold on tight, okay? And don't look down."

"When people say that, the ones they're talking to always do the opposite." Zoya didn't do it though, burying her face to the back collar of his uniform. It surprisingly smelled like mint. 

He chuckled. "Touche." He started to move up, and Zoya had to take in a shaky breath when the urge to look down was strong. "Did you know a shelter once allowed me to name a dog I rescued?" 

Zoya's brows furrowed. "You've rescued dogs?"

"I try to rescue everything that needs help."

"It's a surprise you didn't annoy the dog you named."

"Ah, but the dog loved me. Couldn't blame him, he knows we're both adorable."

This actually earned an amused scoff from Zoya. "Confident, aren't we?" 

"Of course, I only state facts."

"Alright, if you say so." There was no further answer from the firefighter, but Zoya didn't want to risk looking up. Why weren't they moving? 

A moment later, Lantsov cleared his throat. "We're here," he said, and that's when she finally looked up and saw two other firefighters, one was very tall and the other was shorter but with the same golden eyes, staring back at them. 

She quickly let go from Lantsov, straightening her suit and averting her eyes from them. Saints, this was so embarrassing. 

"Are you okay, Miss Nazyalensky?" one of the firefighters asked, a woman with golden eyes. "Did this guy talk too much?"

 _He sure did._ But Zoya only huffed. "He's okay," she said. His blabbering did distract her from the panic. She turned to Lantsov, considering only for a moment before saying, "Thank you."

He tipped his helmet off in respect, a grin lighting up his face. "At your service, Miss Nazyalensky."

***

The second one happened a week later, in an apartment complex, but it was at Genya's this time. Her place was just a few streets over, and Zoya was about to go home after helping the redhead with her current case when the elevator decided to stop again. 

"Why is the universe turning on me?" Zoya pressed the emergency button, whipping out the phone from her pocket.

"Hello?" a voice came from the speaker. 

It surprised her for a bit. At least the answer was immediate. "Yes, hello," she said, trying to calm herself again. The reminder of last week's same incident brought a wave of exhaustion to her. "The elevator stopped. Somewhere on the thirteenth and fourteenth floor."

"Sit tight, ma'am. I'll call the fire department right away."

Zoya breathed out through her nose, looking at the screen of her phone. She was a bit lucky this time because the signal still had two bars, and she quickly gave Genya a call.

The redhead answered after a few rings." What? Did you forget something?"

"No," Zoya said, a bit irritated, "the elevator from your floor just stopped and I don't know what happened."

Genya was silent for a moment, and then, "Have you contacted the front desk?"

"Yes. I have to commend the fast response." Zoya paused. "Can you stay on the phone until they arrive?" 

"Of course. I'm finished for the night work, anyway," Genya said. 

The redhead knew about Zoya's fear since they started working together. The redhead would always try to strike up a conversation during elevator rides on the way to the floor of their firm. She appreciated that from Genya. 

"Didn't this happen to you last week?" Genya asked, and Zoya rolled her eyes at that. Her friend always had a sharp memory. 

"Alright, thank you for the reminder. Let's not talk about that."

"What did you say his name was again?" 

Zoya closed her eyes and counted to three. As much as she appreciated Genya's distraction, Zoya was definitely not in the mood to remember one of the most awkward and embarrassing moments in her life. "No, we are not talking about him."

Genya laughed. "But the way you told me about him makes me remember him as the firefighter in shining uniform."

 _Saints, nothing can stop her._ "Don't make me remember that line," Zoya said, rubbing a hand to her forehead. She checked the time on her watch. 20:38. Her dog Sturmhond was supposed to eat at 20:30. "My dog is probably wondering where I am."

"What are the chances of that firefighter saving you again?" Genya said, curiosity obvious in her voice. 

Zoya closed her eyes, silently asking for more patience to the heavens above. "Very slim chances to none. It's not as if he's always going to respond to elevator problems."

Then, as if on cue, a voice erupted from the speakers on the panel. "Greetings," a voice said, and Zoya stopped cold. _Oh, saints, no._ "This is Nikolai Lantsov from the fire department."

_What the hell?_

There was a short silence. Then, "That's him, isn't it?" Genya asked.

Zoya felt her face heat up. "No," she replied. 

But Genya probably knew Zoya too much because she laughed, the sound echoing in Zoya’s ears. "Oh my dear, I think you two are destined to see each other."

"Alright, shut up." Zoya covered the phone's receiver with a hand before turning to the speaker. "Yes, hello. I'm stuck" —she fought the urge to say "again"— "between the thirteenth and fourteenth floor. Please hurry."

"On our way."

The call ended, and Zoya dreaded the next minutes that passed as she waited for the firefighters to open the elevator doors. 

"Ready to see your great rescuer again?" 

Zoya was startled by Genya's voice from her phone. She forgot that the call was still ongoing. "Oh, do shut up. I'm ignoring you for the rest of my life if you ever bring this up tomorrow." 

Genya chuckled. "We both know you can't ignore me, Nazyalensky."

The sound of doors being opened sounded somewhere near, almost directly in front of her. Zoya felt a bit relieved. At least she didn't have to go through the ceiling again. 

"Hello?" a muffled voice came through the closed space. 

Zoya stared up at the doors. "I'm here."

"Alright, the top half of the elevator is out on the thirteenth floor. No need to worry. We're opening the doors now."

A few moments later, the doors slowly opened. Light poured through the top half of the elevator, and a man's face appeared. 

"Are you—" Lantsov stopped abruptly, and recognition bloomed on his face. He laughed lightly, his eyes twinkling. "Good to see you, Miss Nazyalensky. Elevator problems again?" 

Zoya pursed her lips. Must not say something snarky. 

Lantsov pushed the doors open completely. "At this point, I have to wonder if you intentionally broke the elevator in hopes to see me again."

Whatever gratitude Zoya had for him in the first rescue vanished in an instant. "Thinking highly of yourself again?"

"Ah, but I'm merely trying to ease the tension. You look a bit stiff," he said. "But fret not, we don't have to go out of the ceiling again." He reached out an arm again, the gesture too familiar that Zoya found herself reminded of last week all over again. "Let's get your bag first." 

Zoya didn't know if she should just let herself get stuck on the elevator so she could save herself from embarrassment. But she still did as he said. When Lantsov got her bag, he extended an open hand. 

"Alright, you know the drill," he said with the same gentle smile. It always brought a strange calmness to her. She held his arm in both hands and he said, "Watch your head, okay? On three. One—" 

Then he pulled her up. 

Zoya glared at him the moment she was out of the cramped space. "Tell me, do you know how to count? You said _on_ three. "

Lantsov smiled sheepishly, but his face showed only a playful expression. "Thought you could use a bit of rush. Saying 'two' requires at least a second."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"No 'thank you'?" Lantsov feigned a hurtful look, putting a hand to his chest. "I'm hurt, Miss Nazyalensky." 

Zoya gritted her teeth, and mumbled, "Thank you." No matter how infuriating the firefighter was, she still knew she owed him for going through the trouble. But the elevators should really stop malfunctioning on her. 

"I wonder if another elevator would be a dear and stop on you again."

"Shut up, or I'm taking my "thank you" back." 

Lantsov tipped his headgear off in respect, a small chuckle coming from his lips. "You're very much welcome again, Miss Nazyalensky."

***

When the third time happened after two weeks, Zoya was sure the elevators were definitely doing this on purpose. 

This time, it was in their office building, and she was about to go home. 

She was looking at the news on her phone and saw the article about a huge fire in a restaurant a few blocks away from their office building several hours ago. 

That was when the elevators groaned and stopped, the lights dimming. 

_"You've got to be fucking kidding me,"_ Zoya cursed aloud. She stared incredulously over the panel, not wanting to go through the same shit again for the third time. But of course, she didn't have any choice. Unless she wanted to be stuck in a cramped space again, she needed to call the front desk again. 

After contacting the front desk and being informed that the fire department would be coming in at least ten minutes, Zoya turned to the corner again. She crouched down this time, feeling the exhaustion of today's workload crash to her. 

She didn't know if it was the fatigue that overwhelmed her panic of being stuck in the elevator for the third time within a month, or she was just dreading about who would come and get her again.

If it was Lantsov again, Zoya swore that she would use the stairs for the rest of her life. High floors be damned. 

Several minutes later, a voice came from the speakers. "Hello?" 

Zoya felt a twinge of disappointment in her chest, making her frown. At least she was saved from another probable embarrassment of meeting the same firefighter in the three times she'd been stuck inside the elevator. 

And she didn't have to use the stairs. 

"I'm from the fire department. You're currently on the Ravka Law Firm floor, to confirm?" 

Zoya stood up and went to the speaker. "Below the office floor, on the twenty-third to be exact."

"Sit tight, I'm on my way."

As she waited for the familiar sound of the doors being opened, Zoya remembered about the fire she’d seen in the news just earlier, so she went back to the site to check it again. The weak signal inside the elevator made it a bit slower to open the page. When it fully loaded, she quickly read through, something not sitting well in her stomach.

Almost at the end article, she caught on five gravely injured firefighters that had been trapped when half the second floor collapsed on them. Worry gripped on her mind. Had Lantsov been—

Zoya shook the thoughts away. There could be a lot of dispatched firefighters and rescuers in the fire, and it wasn’t as if he’d be the only one to answer to an elevator trouble. At least that was what she thought last week. But what if he had been one of them?

There was finally the sound of the doors opening, and Zoya looked up from her phone. 

“Hello?” the voice asked.

“Yeah, hey. I’m here.”

“I think the elevator didn’t leave your floor. It’s still on the twenty-fourth. At least it tried to.” A pause. “I’m opening the doors now.”

The doors slowly opened, the light from the current floor flooding to the elevator. Zoya could see her firm’s logo by their front desk, and she realized that the shaft hadn’t really left her floor. It had just gotten down at least several inches before it decided to be a bitch. 

“You know, by this time, I’m really starting to think that you’re doing this on purpose.”

Zoya froze, looking up a bit to the firefighter’s face. Lantsov’s grin greeted her, the one that reached his eyes and made them warm. He was only in a black shirt and his lower body uniform, his blond hair, a rumpled mess, and the side of his face had dark streaks of what she could guess as soot and dirt.

He looked exhausted, but his grin still lightened up his demeanor. _He’s okay._

Lantsov extended out a hand. “Any explanation with these malfunctioning elevators and me always on duty to get you out?” 

Zoya huffed a laugh, suddenly feeling a bit silly for worrying. She accepted his hand and let him pull her up to her floor. He smelled of smoke and dust. “How would I know you weren’t accepting all the elevator troubles in the fire department in hopes to see me?”

This earned a surprised look from the blond. “Ooooh, slamming me back with my own lines from two weeks, eh?”

“You know, I really thought for one second that the person was finally different this time.” 

Lantsov raised a brow. “Why so?”

“You didn’t use your” —Zoya waved weird hand gestures in the air and tried her best to imitate his voice— “‘Greetings’. It sounded different.”

“Why, Miss Nazyalensky, were you waiting for your favorite firefighter in shining uniform?”

Zoya felt her face heat up, and she quickly covered for it with a glare. “Yeah, you wish, Lantsov,” she said.

The firefighter sighed, his grin turning to a tired smile. “I was just a bit tired, I think. The fire that caught a restaurant a few blocks down was a real disaster,” he said. So he was indeed there at the fire. At least he was okay. He shook his head, and his grin returned when he turned to look at her again. “You’re quite lucky. This was the last call before my shift ended, and the others have already gone home. Who would’ve swept you off the elevators again if the call came even a minute late? Maybe we were destined to see each other.”

This man was really something else. Somewhere between annoying and infuriating, but on the good side. Zoya didn’t make sense of it. “Getting a little too confident again, aren’t we?”

“I’m only stating facts, Nazyalensky.”

Zoya shook her head in disbelief, but she still found a small smile twitching to her lips. “Thank you,” she said before hesitation could take the best of her. 

Lantsov gave a surprised look, his eyebrows raising, and he offered her a two-finger salute. “Always at your service, Miss Nazyalensky.”

Zoya guessed that she would _definitely_ have to use the stairs now. 


End file.
